


(i'll be here) giving it my best shot

by clarissawrites



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Waverly Earp, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Very AU, axe throwing, axe throwing and plants what more do you need, don't worry she gets over it pretty quick, garden store au, i know little to nothing about either so don't come for me, just trust me, sorta - Freeform, waverly hates nicole at first for no reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarissawrites/pseuds/clarissawrites
Summary: Nicole is the owner of a new axe throwing range that just moved in next to Waverly’s garden shop. Waverly isn’t too happy about it.
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Wynonna Earp, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp & Nicole Haught
Comments: 39
Kudos: 250





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Birdy and Jaymes Young’s “Best Shot”.

“I don’t know what you’re bitching about; that sounds _sick_.”

Wynonna’s voice is tinny through the line, like she’s put Waverly on speaker. Waverly groans, tucking her phone between her ear and shoulder and fumbling with her key in the lock. It won’t turn again and she wiggles it a few times before it gives. She needs to talk to her landlord about it, but she doubts he’ll do anything soon.

“Think of the noise, Wy. Thumping, all day long. How are my plants supposed to grow in an environment like that?”

Wynonna laughs. “I’m sure they’ll, like, soundproof and shit. I’m also sure your plants don’t give a fuck, on account of they’re _plants._ ”

Waverly huffs, stepping into her apartment and dropping her keys in the little bowl on the table by the door and reaching down to pull off her shoes and arrange them neatly on the rack. Of course Wynonna wouldn't take this seriously. “What about my customers? They won’t want to shop for their plants with all that banging around next door! It ruins the atmosphere!”

“Atmosphere, shmat-mosphere. It’s not like it’s a shooting range. Now _that’d_ be hella loud. Stupid cool, but loud.”

Waverly pouts, even though Wynonna can’t see her. “Not the point.”

“Come on, babygirl. I’m sure it will be fine.” 

Waverly grumbles some more, moving into the kitchen and grabbing her kettle to make some tea. She fills it with water and turns on the stove, then pulls down her favorite mug and grabs her box of assorted teas, rifling through them.

“Hey, look on the bright side. I’m more likely to find excuses to come visit you now,” Wynonna chuckles.

“Wow. Rude.” Waverly huffs out.

“Kidding!” Wynonna clarifies. “As if I need an excuse. I’m just busy lately.”

“I know.” Waverly sighs, deflating a little. She misses her sister, but at least they talk regularly now.

“Waves.” Wynonna’s voice gets a little clearer as she takes the phone off speaker. “What’s really bothering you?”

Waverly hesitates. She hates when Wynonna can read her so easily, even from far apart. Grimacing, she admits defeat. “We have such a great little community of small business owners on our street. Like Kiersten, me, Jeremy and Robin, and Chrissy’s just around the corner. The thrift store that was there was so nice, and I know they needed a bigger location, but I just wish they hadn’t sold to a dudebro who’s going to bring other dudebros to the area.”

“You’ve met him? Is he hot?”

“Wynonna. No.”

“No you haven’t met him, or no he isn’t hot? Are you sure I wouldn’t think so? Our taste in men is pretty different.”

“No, I haven't met him,” Waverly rolls her eyes, choosing a cranberry black tea she got in cape cod last year and dropping it into her mug as the kettle starts to whistle.

“Then how do you know the new owner’s a dudebro?” Wynonna asks.

Waverly groans. “I don’t. I just know the type of person that owns that type of place.”

“Hey, I’d own that type of place if I had any brains for business,” Wynonna defends, her voice going a bit tinny again. 

“No you wouldn’t, you’d own a bar.”

“True. But if I didn’t own a bar, I’d totally own an axe throwing place. They’re super in right now, Waves, and they aren’t just for dudebros. Mercedes went to a bachelorette party at one, apparently.”

Waverly laughs out loud, dunking her tea bag a few more times before pulling it out and opening the fridge to get her cream. “Now that, I’d pay to see.”

“Right?”

Waverly can hear the grin in her sister’s voice. She rubs her forehead. “I just hate change.”

“Just, give him a chance, Waves. Whoever owns that place might surprise you.”

“I don’t know,” Waverly sighs. “I hope you’re right.”

“Baby girl, I’m always right,” Wynonna says, a grin in her voice.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Waverly replies, and hangs up the phone.

* * *

_Gibson’s Greenery_ is Waverly’s pride and joy. It falls somewhere between a garden store and a flower shop, but mostly it’s just a lot of plants. She sells plants for indoors and outdoors both, seeds for growing all kinds of flowers and vegetables, and lots of gardening equipment. She even does some flower arrangements. 

She’s loved plants ever since she was a little girl, helping her uncle in the garden. Aunt Gus had started the business before she and Curtis were married, and Uncle Curtis helped it grow with his exceptional tomatoes when Waverly was young, eventually adding to their inventory with several starter vegetables. 

Waverly started helping them in a professional capacity in high school, eventually opening a little storefront in the city, 30 miles from the ranch, to expand the business even further. A few years before he died, Curtis and Gus gave her the business to run by herself. She kept the original name, especially since Gus still helps out, and Waverly appreciates the alliteration.

She has plans to create a non-profit introducing better environmental practices to big cities-- building community gardens and educating everyone about plants, gardening, and how to love the earth. She has all the connections lined up to get started, she just has to finish her online degrees first.

For now, she stays busy at the little three-story shop that she bought two and a half years ago just outside of downtown. It helps that several of her best friends are also small business owners in the area, and the community at large has welcomed them all with open arms. Gus helps out three days a week, and Waverly employs Levi and his boyfriend Fish part time. Levi also works as a manager at Kiersten’s Kafe, and Fish helps Jeremy and Robin out at their comic books and records store. Chrissy has a small marketing business that she can do from almost anywhere, but usually uses a shared office space nearby. She’s not officially hired by Waverly, but since they’ve been close friends for ages, she often helps out with social media posts. 

Despite being so busy with school and running her own business, Waverly loves her job. Mondays through Thursdays and Saturdays she’s at the shop, selling garden supplies, and tending the third floor greenhouse.. Fridays are for classes and tending the small community garden they started last year. Sundays are her day off, but she’s often at the greenhouse or garden anyway, when she’s not studying, and she sometimes wonders if she shouldn’t just turn part of the third floor into an apartment and live here instead of her little apartment a few blocks away. Though, now that there’s going to be lots of noise next door, she’s kind of glad she hasn’t. 

The next few weeks are utter chaos. Waverly has to walk around trucks and sweaty dudes and general pandemonium every day it seems and she’s starting to get very frustrated. There are loud construction noises and men in hard hats and lots of dust in her normally peaceful, clean neighborhood. She can’t walk into the cafe for her iced oat milk latte without running into at least one of the workers, and a few of them are even buying retro video games and comics from Robin when she swings by to see him and Jeremy after work. 

She has yet to meet the owner of the new business, _Haught Shot_. Not that she really cares, but it would be nice to know which dude she has to avoid on principle in the coming years. The noise and construction is already disturbing her customers, and she can only promise it’ll be done soon and hope that she’s right. 

Waverly’s aware she’s being kind of ridiculous. She looked it up and Wynonna is right: axe throwing is all the rage right now, and since this is a prime spot for young people in town, it makes sense that one would pop up here. There are lots of rooftop restaurants and bars nearby, cute little boutiques, and even a local brewery. They get a lot of foot traffic because of their location. Anyone would be lucky to open something here. She just wished it would have been someone she could get along with. A soft boy with a dream of selling vintage books, perhaps, or an eco-friendly girl with a passion for loose leaf tea. Basically: anyone the opposite of her ex. 

She can’t imagine that someone running an axe throwing business is all that different from Champ. 

Wynonna tells her again and again that she’s crazy, but still plans to come down the weekend after next to take her out for sister night. They’re long overdue, anyway.

“We’ll hit all the good places. That asian fusion place you love, and that dive bar over on third.”

“Wynonna, you love that dive bar, not me,” Waverly reminds her.

“Yeah, but I’ll take you to the wine tasting you love at the end of the summer if you go with me. Ooh, we could get greek food!”

“Ok, Aphrodite.”

Wynonna falls silent for a moment. “You’re not supposed to know about that.”

“I’m your sister, Wynonna. I know everything.”

“That’s a little creepy, Waves.”

“Doesn’t make it not true.”

“Oh, gotta go, my guy’s leaving the post office. See you later!”

Wynonna hangs up before Waverly can say her own goodbye and she rolls her eyes. She’s glad Wynonna’s getting clients, but sometimes she doesn’t manage her work/life balance all that well. 

Still, talking with her always makes Waverly feel a bit better, and not just about the axe she has to grind next door. She’s excited to see her sister, since they’ve both been so busy lately, but with Waverly’s semester almost over, she’ll be able to spend more time on the store and her friends and family soon.

It’s a slow day, but Waverly doesn’t mind because she has a few finals coming up. She sits at the counter and studies as a few customers trickle in and out. Most of them are regulars, and Waverly leaves them to their own devices until they’re ready to check out. 

Just after lunch, though, the door opens and a new face walks in. Waverly sets aside her textbook and stands a little straighter, walking around the counter to offer a greeting.

“Hi! What can I help you with? Gardening supplies? Bouquet of fresh flowers for a loved one?” Waverly smiles brightly at the tall, attractive, red-haired woman, looking around like she’s a bit lost. At Waverly’s words, she turns with a smirk.

“You’re not one of those people that’s going to comment on how ‘women just don’t buy enough flowers for their men, it’s so nice that you are’, are you?”

Waverly’s brow furrows slightly, unsure where this conversation is going. “No? People actually do that?”

The woman laughs. “You’d be surprised. I can’t count the number of times i just wanted something nice to surprise my girlfriend with and had jokes made about ‘me being the one that messed up this time, he must be a lucky guy’.” She shakes her head. “Well. Ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Waverly honestly doesn’t know what to say. Usually she’s really good with people, and there are a lot of interesting people that come into her shop. This is, by far, one of the most unique conversations she’s had from the get-go, though. She’s flustered and it’s very confusing. Waverly doesn’t get flustered.

“That’s not going to be a problem, is it?” the woman asks, mistaking her silence for probably the complete opposite of what it really is. She doesn’t seem bashful, though, just uninterested in being where she’s not wanted.

“No, of course not.” Waverly tells her brightly, trying to shake off her sudden nervousness. She’s literally the reason Robin and Jeremy met, though of course this woman doesn’t know that. “I am going to have a problem helping you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

The woman grins at her. “You,” she says.

Waverly gapes. And flushes. And opens and closes her mouth a few times, like an idiot. “Sorry?”

The woman laughs. “I’m not here to buy anything, not today anyway. I’m here to meet you. You’re the owner, right? Waverly Earp?”

“Y-yeah,” Waverly stutters, automatically taking the proffered hand to shake.

“I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught. I own _Haught Shot_ , next door.”

Waverly frowns, pulling her hand back a little too fast. “You,” she says, “of course.”

Turning, she stalks back toward the counter, fussing with various things along the way to abate her sudden anger at coming face to face with her nemesis. Of course this attractive, friendly, funny woman would be the owner of _that place._

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nicole asks, following along behind her. She sounds genuinely confused. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Nicole, but I’m not interested in being friends.”

“Okay.” Nicole draws out the word. Waverly turns to see her with an adorable furrow between her brows. “We don’t have to be friends. I just wanted to meet some of the other business owners around here, get to know the area and all.”

“Well, we’ve met then,” Waverly tells her. “Is that it? I have paying customers to help.”

There is only one other person in the store right now, and she’s in the back, puttering around and completely oblivious to what’s happening at the register. 

Nicole lets out a little confused laugh, glancing at the other customer. “Okay, then. I just wanted to say hello, and give you a 50% off coupon for our grand opening.” She places the half-sheet of paper on the counter when Waverly makes no move to take it. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Waverly makes a small non-committal noise, planting her hands firmly on her hips. 

“Right.” Nicole backs up, her mouth doing a funny thing like she wants to say something else. After a moment, she settles on: “It was nice to meet you, I think.”

Waverly feels a little bad. Nicole seems like a nice person. But then she remembers the imminent thumping that’s going to be invading her space all day long and her frown deepens. She lifts her chin, not saying anything else, and with one confused backwards glance, Nicole leaves.

“Are these part of the two-for-one sale?” Mrs. Grifley asks, startling Waverly from her thoughts. “I couldn’t quite tell which shelf was and which wasn’t.”

Waverly glances down at the two little succulents and smiles. “They sure are. Want me to ring you up?”

“I’ve got to look at the flower seeds. Can I leave these at the counter?”

“Of course.” Waverly takes the succulents and sets them aside, catching sight of Nicole’s flyer. As Mrs. Grifley walks toward the seed section, Waverly sighs. She pickles up the flyer and almost tosses it in the trash. Something stops her, and she flips it over instead. Written in sharpie, below the contact info for the business itself, is a phone number. From the looks of things, it’s Nicole’s personal phone number. 

“50% off opening week, anytime Saturday to Saturday. Come ready to bury the hatchet!” the flyer states. Waverly sighs and tosses it in her bag, forgetting about it, and trying to forget about Nicole. 

* * *

“Hey, Waves, do you have chapstick?” Wynonna yells from the living room.

“Yeah, in my purse,” Waverly calls back. A few seconds later, she hops into the room on one foot, tugging a heeled boot on the other. 

“Ooh, what’s this?” Wynonna’s rifling through Waverly’s bag and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, chapstick forgotten. She flips it back and forth. “Haught Shot. What a name.”

“Her name is Nicole Haught,” Waverly says, absently, adjusting her cardigan in the hall mirror and walking into the kitchen, across from where Wynonna sits at the bar to put her tea mug in the sink.

“Her?” 

When Waverly doesn’t answer, Wynonna leans forward across the counter, waving a hand in her face. “Waves. _Her?_ ”

“Yes, Wynonna. Her. The owner of that monstrosity is a woman.”

“That is so cool, dude! Damn! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t care. About her, or it, or anything.”

Wynonna ignores her, examining the flyer. “Wow, this is a great deal. And you have until tomorrow to use it! “Bury the hatchet.” That’s funny. And, incidentally, something you could do.”

“No,” Waverly says firmly, already sensing where her sister is going with this.

“I bet I could kick your ass at axe throwing. Can’t be all that different than the summer we tried to hit the knots in the fence with beer cans and pop bottles.”

“ _No._ ”

“Waves, come on. Look, she even left you her number.”

“That’s just because we’re neighbors. I mean, our businesses are neighbors. Next to each other. You know what i mean.”

Wynonna scoffs. “Sure, because the phone number for the store wasn’t enough.”

Waverly takes the flyer from Wynonna’s hand and shoves it back into her purse. “Stop. Are you ready to go?”

Wynonna sighs, clamoring to her feet. “Fine. I still think we should go, check out the competition.”

Waverly opens the front door and shuffles her sister out so she can lock it. “She’s not ‘the competition’. Our businesses are for completely different things.”

“Is she hot?”

“What?” Waverly throws Wynonna a look as they move down the stairs.

“Well, I know her name is Haught, but is _she_ hot? Like, a woman axe-thrower, that has to be gay, right?”

“That’s stereotyping, Wynonna.”

“I’m just saying, if she’s gay, then you’ve got some competition.”

“Except I’m not gay, Wynonna.”

“Tomato-tomahto. You’re bi, that’s close enough. I’m just saying, any queer woman coming to the area might be pretty taken with a butch, axe wielding lumberjack.”

Waverly opens the door to her jeep and climbs in. “Ok, first of all, bi isn’t ‘close enough’, it’s just bi. Second of all, not all queer women are into that. And third, if _you’re_ so into it, why don’t you date her?”

“Because, unlike you, I’m actually _not_ gay, even a little. I mean, I wouldn’t say no, but I’d rather get it on with the fellas.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Ew, Wynonna.” Waverly pulls out of her parking spot and starts down the road.

“And you might not be _only_ gay, but you’re gay enough to want the ladies, so my point stands. Besides, I’m taken.”

“Not really, you’re not. On-again-off-again isn’t ‘taken’.”

“Well, we’re ‘on-again’ right now, so I am. Hey, I thought we were going to the fusion place, isn’t it down that way?”

“We’re getting drinks first.” Waverly says. “I can’t deal with you right now otherwise.”

“Aww, you love me and you know it,” Wynonna says, flicking her in the ear. “We could’ve just had something at your place.”

“Nope, you wanted that shitty dive bar, so we’re going there.”

“No fair, it’s not going to be any fun this early!”

Waverly smirks. “I’m trying to spend time with my sister, not watch her get trashed. If you wanna go there, we’re going now.”

“Fine.” Wynonna slumps back in her seat and pouts a little. “But you’re buying.”

“Ok, you can pay for the wine tasting in August then.”

Wynonna lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I guess this is what I get for not visiting you for over two months, huh?

“Yup,” Waverly says brightly. 

The dive bar isn’t as abandoned as Wynonna had feared, and she still manages to find someone to flirt with in the 45 minutes they spend there getting their drinks, despite her claims to being in a relationship. (“We have an understanding, Waves.”) Waverly just rolls her eyes, pulling Wynonna away to go get food and promising that they can go to the brewery after supper if she’s good. 

Supper is perfect. Wynonna tells her how business is going and asks about her classes and finals over asian fusion appetizers and tacos. They chat and laugh and Waverly forgets about her woes, even when Jeremy, Robin, and Kiersten all meet them at the brewery for beer afterward. Waverly manages to get Wynonna back home before it’s too late, promising to do something fun tomorrow night too. 

They watch a movie and turn in earlier than Waverly expected. She’s still opening the store for a few hours tomorrow, taking the afternoon off to spend time with Wynonna. With their reasonable bedtime, Waverly knows she won’t be exhausted, at least.

She leaves Wynonna asleep in the morning, stopping to get breakfast at Kiersten’s instead of making it herself. She has a few bouquets to get ready for pickup around noon, and it’s the last day of their indoor planters sale, so she’s bound to be a little busy. 

By the time Wynonna comes in with a coffee in hand around 11:30, the planters are all but gone, but not much else has been sold. Waverly has a few flower arrangements left to make before they’re picked up this afternoon, but with the store as slow as it is, she’ll have plenty of time.

“I’m starving,” Wynonna complains, sprawling across the desk. “Can you close for lunch yet?”

“I’m not closing for lunch today. I thought maybe you could go pick us up something, and then I can close after my last pick up this afternoon so we can hang out.”

Wynonna sighs, standing and sitting on the desk. “Fine. Dean’s ok?”

“You can take the jeep somewhere farther if you don’t want to walk.”

Taking a long pull of her coffee, Wynonna waves a hand. “I’d rather walk, I think. Your jeep is funky and still smells like Champ.”

“It does not!” Waverly protests. 

“Whatever you say, babycakes. I’ll be back.”

When Wynonna returns half an hour later, Waverly’s stomach is growling. She eagerly takes her sandwich, sighing happily around her first bite.

Wynonna steals her chair behind the counter, propping her feet up next to the register. “You know, that place next door is hopping today.”

Waverly shrugs. “So?”

“So, maybe we should go check it out when you close up. See what all the rage is.”

“No.”

“Waves, come on.”

Waverly glares at her. “No. She’s stealing my business. I’m not going to give her any more.”

“I thought you said she _wasn’t_ your competition.”

Waverly sighs. “Saturday is usually really busy ad today's been slow. Maybe I was wrong.”

“Or maybe it’s a nice day and all the garden nerds are outside instead. Besides, they probably know you’re closing early: you’ve got a disgustingly loyal fanbase.”

“Thanks to Chrissy’s social media skills.”

“Thanks to your green thumb. Hell, I bet you could get even me to keep a plant alive.”

Waverly shakes her head fondly. “That would be a feat.”

“Whatever. I’m not so bad.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I’ll stop if you take me to throw around some axes.”

“No.”

Wynonna pouts. “I should’ve brought Doc. He’d take me.”

“No fair,” Waverly says. The door over the bell jingles and she sets aside her sandwich. “Hi! How can I help you today?”

“Do you still have any of those planters? I saw your Instagram post.” the woman holds up her phone.

“Sure do! You’re in luck, we’re almost out.” Waverly leads the woman over to the display and shows her the remaining selection. The woman picks out what she wants, and Waverly manages to sell her two succulents as well. “Come back soon!”

“You know, I think a sale like that deserves a celebration,” Wynonna says, tossing her sandwich wrapper toward the garbage and raising her fists in victory when it makes it in.

“Please don’t say axe throwing.”

“Nah, I was thinking the wine bar you went to with Robin and Jeremy last week.”

“You hate wine.” 

“No, I just prefer other drinks. Besides, you said they had good food. We can go there for supper, forget about axes and exes and… anything else that rhymes with axes.”

“Ok,” Waverly says slowly. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a pregnancy scare.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. 

“I am though, baby girl. Hey, I’ve got to make a call, can I use the roof?”

“Yeah. Don’t kill any of my plants on the way.”

“I make no promises,” Wynonna says, kissing her on the temple and heading for the stairs, a bounce in her step.

Somehow, Waverly has a sneaking feeling Wynonna’s not done trying to get her into the throwing range next door. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly starts to feel things. Nicole is just trying her best. Wynonna is Wynonna.

“I can’t believe you forgot your phone on accident.”

“But you would believe I forgot it on purpose?”

Waverly shoots her sister a glare. “Yes.”

“To what end?” 

“I don’t know, to get out of wine drinking early?”

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad: I had fun! I just need to be available for my clients to get in touch.”

“I thought you were off the clock.”

Wynonna flips her hair over her shoulder. “A PI’s work is never done.”

“Sure.” Waverly pulls in behind her store and parks the jeep. “Hurry up.”

Wynonna opens the car door and throws her head back dramatically. “It’s not like we have anywhere else we have to be tonight.”

“I could’ve made surprise plans!” Waverly says, shutting off the jeep and climbing out after her.

Wynonna scoffs as they walk toward the building. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Waverly unlocks the door and flips on the lights while Wynonna heads to the check-out counter. Sure enough, her phone is waiting right where she left it, though Waverly is still pretty sure it wasn’t an accident. 

“Ok, we’ve got it. Now can we go?”

Wynonna glances up from flipping through her messages. “What, you got a hot date?”

“I just don’t want to have to stand here and wait while you sext Doc or something.”

Wynonna acts mock offended. “On sister night?”

“You’ve done worse.”

“Please.” Wynonna levels her with a look. “I’m a new woman. No more phones, unless it’s an emergency.” 

She makes a big show of putting her phone in her pocket and crossing the room to wrap an arm around Waverly’s shoulders. “Now, what other hot spots should we hit in this crazy town?”

Waverly sighs. She loves hanging out with her sister, but she’s more in the mood for movies and popcorn tonight, rather than clubbing or something. “I don’t know. We could go to another bar, I guess. Or there’s a new late-night cupcake place on 5th.”

“Hmm. Sounds good, but maybe for later. I feel like I need to do something physical first.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

Waverly sighs. “That had better not be a euphemism.”

“Usually, but no. I have something else in mind.”

Waverly eyes her cautiously. “Ok.”

“Anything I want?” Wynonna grins.   
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Waverly takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Promise I can pick?”

“Yes. I promise.” Wynonna’s starting to look a little too excited. “Will you tell me already so we can go? I kinda really want cupcakes now.”

Wynonna’s shit-eating grin should’ve tipped her off sooner, and Waverly’s a little ashamed she forgot this was probably coming. “I dunno, I could go for a good axe-throwing right about now.”

Waverly closes her eyes. “Wynonna…”

“You promised!”

It takes a lot more effort than it should to agree. “Fine. But you’re buying my cupcake after.”

Wynonna hops up and down a little, more excited than seems necessary. “Yes!” She grabs Waverly’s hand and drags her to the door. “Let’s go throw some sharp objects!”

Waverly sighs, and resigns herself to her fate.

* * *

Nicole’s busy with a group when they enter. Her back is to them, and she’s wearing a black and red checkered flannel shirt. Even through the soft-looking cotton, Waverly can see the muscles of her shoulders and arms flex as she demonstrates proper and improper throwing techniques. Waverly can’t deny the fact that she’s an attractive woman, and she wrinkles her nose at the thought, frustrated that she thinks so. 

Wynonna lets out a low whistle, catching Waverly staring. Blushing, Waverly turns away, looking around the space instead. She’d expected it to be industrial: lumberjack vibes with a side of warehouse. Instead, she feels like she’s walked into a little jungle, or maybe the woods somewhere. There is exposed brick on a few of the walls, hanging fairy lights, and solid wood detailing. The music is upbeat but not heavy or distracting, and there are plants everywhere. Waverly is pretty sure most of them aren’t fake. 

Long wood tables with stools fill one side of the large, main room, while the throwing cages fill the other, almost as if half of it is a cozy bar and only the other half is the throwing range. All along the walls are various types of art, photographs, paintings, and even some sculptures and pottery, on the far end of the room, there is a nook with some couches, a space for live musicians, and a wood burning fireplace. It feels very cabin-in-the-forest, but in a good way. There’s even a pride flag hanging artfully in one corner, not surprising given Nicole’s confession of a former girlfriend, but unexpected in it’s overtness on display at the business. It endears Waverly to the other woman a little more than she’d like.

“Dude, we can throw knives, too!” Wynonna says, reading the prices on the little chalkboard above the front counter.

“Yeah, the flyer says that,” Waverly tells her, curiously looking at some of the art posted by the door. It’s for sale, apparently.

“Waverly? Hey!” says a voice behind her, and she turns to see Nicole walking toward them, a surprised smile on her face. She doesn’t look angry or like she’ll give Waverly the same treatment Waverly gave her and throw them out, which is good. Wynonna might kill her otherwise.

“Hey. Nicole.”

“Haught Shot? More like  _ hot damn _ ,” Wynonna stage whispers to her, and Waverly elbows her in the side.

“Um, this is my sister, Wynonna,” Waverly tells Nicole, ignoring the hot feeling in her stomach. “She wanted to see the place.”

Nicole extends her hand with a smile and Wynonna shakes it. 

“Ever thrown an axe before?” Nicole asks her. 

“Surprisingly, no.” Wynonna tells her. “And it was too good a deal to pass up.”

She holds out the 50% off flyer and Nicole grins. “Well, today’s your lucky day. Put that thing away, it’s on the house.”

Wynonna smacks Waverly on the arm in excitement a few times, her face lighting up as she bounces up and down a bit. “Anything?” she asks Nicole.

“Well, you have to buy your own drinks. And I reserve the right to cut you off or kick you out if you have too much in the interest of safety, but as far as throwing goes, I’ll let you pick.”

“Knives, too?” Wynonna asks, bouncing a little.

Nicole laughs. “Yes, that was implied. Waverly?”

“Huh?” Waverly startles. She’d been staring at the little bright red hairs escaping Nicole's braid at her neck and she flushes again, pulling her attention back to Nicole’s eyes. They’re brown, she notices. Brown, and warm, and the type of kind that Waverly could get lost in.

“Do you want to try something too?” Nicole asks her, bringing her back to the present. “Axe throwing, knife throwing?

“Um.” Waverly doesn’t care, really. “Whatever is fine, I guess.” 

“Ok, how about a standard axe? Just to get you started.” 

“Ok,” Waverly says slowly. 

Nicole is being too nice to her, considering their last interaction, she thinks. She wants to say something, apologize, but she’s not sure how. Her palms are sweaty and she feels flustered and doesn’t know how to bring it up. Nicole’s smile is soft and her posture is casual and Waverly doesn’t want to ruin it again.

“Dude. Where do you even start with this?” Wynonna is inspecting the knife selection eagerly, apparently fascinated by the wide range of possibilities. She reaches for a large one, and Nicole laughs, leaning over to pick up something smaller instead.

“You might want to work up to that. This one is a bit better for beginners.” 

Wynonna looks a tiny bit disappointed at the size, taking it and inspecting it. After a moment she shrugs. “Eh, it’ll do.”

Nicole shakes her head fondly, grabbing an axe for Waverly and leading them over to a cage with a pair of targets inside.

“First things first. Neither of you moves past this line until both of you are done throwing, got it?” she indicates a painted line on the floor and looks at them both seriously, paying just a little more attention to Wynonna. They both nod. 

“Sign these waivers, and then I’ll show you how to get the knives and axe to stick, ok?” She hands them each a piece of paper and a pen and they sign them, but only Waverly actually reads over the whole thing. 

Nicole walks Wynonna through a few throwing techniques for the knives, and Wynonna makes her first throw. It sticks on the target, near the top, not quite parallel to the ground.

“I need a drink,” Wynonna says good naturedly. 

“That was a good first throw,” Nicole tells her, not understanding.

Wynonna grins. “Oh, I know. I need a congratulatory drink. Plus, Waves’ll probably get so nervous with me standing here she’ll chop off my foot or something.”

“Okay,” Nicole says slowly, not quite understanding Wynonna’s sense of humor yet. “Well, the bar is over there. Lonnie can help you. We mostly have beer, nothing fancy. A few local breweries on tap, and some bottled stuff.”

“Good with me.” Wynonna ambles off.

Nicole smiles at Waverly, who is frowning after her sister. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you chop off anyone’s foot.”

“I’m not that bad at hand-eye coordination,” Waverly defends, pulling her gaze back to Nicole.

“Oh, I bet you’re very good at hand-eye coordination,” Nicole says, and Waverly thinks she’s maybe not talking about axe throwing right now.

She turns toward the target, hefting the axe up in her hand. “So, how do I do this?”

“Here.” Nicole positions herself behind Waverly, arranging her hands on the handle of the axe and lifting her arms so the axe is behind Waverly’s head. “Hold it loosely, and release it when it gets here, to eye level.”

She moves Waverly’s arms through the motion slowly. Waverly feels her skin prickle with goose bumps where Nicole touches her. She swallows hard, hoping it’s not audible.

“Ready?” Nicole asks.

“I guess,” Waverly says, and feels a disappointing loss of warmth as Nicole steps away.

“Go ahead.”

Waverly throws the axe. It sticks, parallel to the ground, just above the bullseye. “I did it!”

“Nice throw, Waverly!” Nicole cheers. Waverly grins, turning to look at her, and their eyes meet for a moment too long. Waverly sucks in a breath, feeling that strange pull toward Nicole, lost in her infectious smile.

“Way to show me up, baby girl,” Wynonna says, jolting Waverly back to the present. With a smirk, one eyebrow raised knowingly, Wynonna hands her a beer. “Got you this.”

Waverly takes it from her and turns away from Nicole, taking a drink without looking at the bottle. She grimaces. “Gross, you know I hate IPA.”

Wynonna takes it back with a shrug. “More for me.”

“We have wine, too,” Nicole says. Her face looks a little flushed, oddly. “If that’s more your speed. Or cider. Or spritzers.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll get some wine,” Waverly says, taking a step in that direction.

Nicole holds a hand up to stop her, looking like she was going to touch Waverly’s arm but pulling back at the last second. “No, you stay here. I’ll grab it. Go get your weapons, and then you can throw at the same time, ok?”

“Sure,” Waverly says. 

“Red or white? I think we just have generic canned blends,” Nicole says. “Though we might have rosé, too.”

“Rosé, if you have it. Or red, if not.”

“Coming right up,” Nicole says and leaves.

Waverly smiles after her softly until Wynonna clears her throat.

“What?”

“Baby girl, that woman is  _ smitten _ .”

Waverly feels her face heat up. She begins to walk to the target to get her axe. “No, she’s not. She’s just being nice.”

“Yeah, after you ran her out of your store? No way.” Wynonna pulls out her knife, twirling it before pointing it directly at Waverly with emphasis. “She wants you. It’s probably just a masochistic hate-sex thing, but she  _ wants _ you.”

“Gross.” Waverly makes a face, turning back toward the target. “Can we just focus on this, please? You’re the one that wanted to come here.”

Wynonna takes a drink of her beer, eyebrows raised. “Mm-hm.”

They throw a few more times before Nicole comes back with Waverly’s wine, having been stopped by the other group. She doesn’t get the chance to stay, either, as a few more people come in, and she and Lonnie are both busy with waivers and training and just generally running the business. 

Waverly’s actually enjoying herself. She loves spending time with Wynonna, and the catharsis of throwing something sharp and heavy at a piece of wood is kind of nice. 

She’s just made her third bulls eye in a row when Nicole comes back over. “Wow, you’re a natural!”

Waverly turns, catching Nicole’s grin. She frowns slightly, still confused at why Nicole is being so kind and encouraging to her. Something about the kind look on Nicole’s face is rubbing her the wrong way. The guilt at yelling her out of her store begins to egg at Waverly and she steps back slightly.

“Maybe I’ve just had a lot of previous practice,” she says coolly. “You don’t know me.”

Nicole’s smile falters a tiny bit. “You’re right. I don’t.” She glances at Wynonna who shrugs and finishes her beer. 

“Got any pointers for the less-well coordinated sister?” Wynonna asks Nicole. 

“Um.” Nicole drags her sad eyes away from Waverly and looks at Wynonna. “Do you want to try an axe? Generally, throwing with two hands gives you more control, and it’s easier for beginners.”

“Yeah, I’ll give it a go.” Wynonna starts toward the targets, reaching them before Waverly has a chance to react. She pulls both the axe and knife from their places and heads back, handing Waverly the knife. “Ok, Tater Haught, give me the low-down. How does one do this?”

Nicole steps up to her side and instructs Wynonna. She moves her arms into the right position, but Waverly can’t help but notice that she’s not being quite as touchy with Wynonna as she was with her. She can’t quite tell how that makes her feel. 

Wynonna makes the throw. The axe lands pretty squarely, just above the bulls eye. 

“Nice!” Nicole says, and high fives her. 

“Your turn, baby girl,” Wynonna says, and Waverly startles.

“What?”

Wynonna indicates the knife in her hand and Waverly looks down, having barely registered that she was holding it. “Oh. I don’t know, I…”

“Here.” Nicole steps forward, reaching for her arm, probably to guide it into the proper throwing position, but Waverly jumps back, flinging the knife away from her. It hits the fence sideways and falls to the ground.

“Oh.” 

They all look at it for a moment. 

“I’m so sorry,” Waverly says, backing away from Nicole slowly. “I have to, um, I should go. Before I hurt something. Or someone, or…”

She trails off, grabbing her bag and running out, ignoring Wynonna and Nicole calling after her and not stopping until she’s at her jeep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYQ582ZdCiM and https://www.downtownaxeroom.com/virtual-tour for a vague idea of what it might look like inside Haught Shot (though obviously with more plants and pride :) )


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Waverly is awkward and thirsty and in denial, Nicole is confused, and Wynonna and Jeremy are just plain Done. 

They’re pulling into Waverly’s parking spot outside her apartment when Wynonna finally speaks.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Waverly shuts off the car but makes no move to get out. “No.”

“Baby girl.” Wynonna puts a hand on her shoulder, but Waverly shrugs it off. Wynonna sighs. “Waves, clearly something’s bothering you. Did she say something to you? I’ll fight her for you. I feel like I could take her, even if she does have legs for days.”

Waverly sighs, not even amused by Wynonna’s attempt at humor deflection. “No, she didn’t say anything. At least not anything rude or mean. _I_ was the mean one, and she’s still being super nice. I feel awful about it, and I don’t know what to do, so I’m just awkward. It’s embarrassing.”

“So apologize. You’re like, the queen of apologizing.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know.” Waverly groans and drops her head to the steering wheel. “I see her and I just get angry. I don’t know why.”

“Um, Waves? That sounds kind of like a crush.”

“No.” Waverly sits up abruptly and glares at her sister. “No, I do _not_ have a crush on her. I know what crushes feel like and this is not it, ok? I’m just mad that she’s taking my business and creating extra noise in the neighborhood and being nice to everybody when _I’m_ the one that’s nice to everybody. I don’t like her. In fact, I _dislike_ her in every sense of the word, and I’m just mad she hasn’t caught on.”

Wynonna raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything else.

“Can we just forget about it?” Waverly begs.

“Ok. Sure. Whatever you want, baby girl.” Wynonna’s voice is soft in a way that should raise Waverly’s suspicions, but she just smiles in thanks at her big sister and they head up to the apartment together. 

* * *

Wynonna stays for two more days, but they don’t speak another word about the incident at the throwing range. It’s a little surprising that Wynonna doesn’t bring it up even once in teasing, but Waverly’s not going to complain. 

By Tuesday morning, Waverly’s feeling a little better about the whole incident altogether. After all, it’s not like she’ll ever really have to face Nicole again. Axe throwing was more fun than she’d expected, she’ll admit, but it’s not going to become a staple of her weekly life. Sure, they work next to each other, but their hours are different enough that Waverly’s sure she’ll rarely see Nicole, especially if she makes sure not to whenever possible.

She’s not even thinking about it anymore when she heads down the street to get her caffeine fix for the day. The bell over the door to the cafe jingles as she steps inside, and Kiersten gives her a smile from behind the counter.

“Hey, Waves! Your chai is almost ready. Do you want a scone too?”

Waverly pulls out her wallet, stepping up to the register. “Do you have orange cranberry?”

“Sure do.”

“One of those, then.”

She pays and steps down to the end of the bar to get her scone and tea, smiling at the other barista who hands her the drink. Just as she’s about to grab the pastry from the little glass display container on the counter, the bell above the door jingles. Waverly glances up and almost drops her chai.

Nicole steps in, her eyes already searching for the menu, not noticing Waverly. She’s wearing a comfy looking flannel again--despite the warm day--and form fitting jeans. Her flannel is unbuttoned over a tank top and her hair is down. As she steps inside, she notices a customer off to the side by the coffee and merch display struggling to reach for a bag of beans on the top shelf. Nicole hurries over, reaching up to grab it for them with a smile. As she extends her arm above her head, her tank top rises just a bit, baring a sliver of skin. It’s hardly an inch, but Waverly’s eyes zero in on it. She knew Nicole was muscular, but she wasn’t expecting visible abs. Her mouth goes dry and she stares. 

Waverly’s dated muscular people before, but all of them had been guys. Of all the things Champ didn’t have going for him, his physical fitness certainly _had_ been an asset, even if it was mostly for show. But Nicole is different. She’s muscular in an unassuming way, the way that almost surprises you when you first notice it. 

And _boy howdy_ has Waverly noticed it. 

Nicole is smiling at the woman she helped get the coffee beans, chatting with her as they approach the counter together. The woman laughs at something Nicole says, and Nicole smiles back at her, easy and carefree.

It’s nothing more than a pleasant exchange, but Waverly still feels angry for some reason. Her embarrassment from the other night resurfaces full force and she feels hot and cold all at once. She grips her chai a little too tightly and has to force herself to relax so she won’t spill. Her mouth feels like cotton and her shoulders tense and she is caught between freezing and running for the hills.

She forces herself to take a deep breath, square her shoulders and walk as calmly as possible out of the shop. She has to pass Nicole to get to the door, but she turns slightly, keeping her head down and not looking at the other woman no matter how strong a pull she feels to do so.

She hears Keirsten calling after her but she ignores it, speed-walking away so fast she’s practically running as soon as she’s out of sight. 

Only when she gets back to her own store does she realize she forgot her scone.

* * *

Waverly’s store has barely been open ten minutes when the bell above the door jingles. Waverly jolts, terrified that it’s going to be Nicole.

It’s Jeremy. He smiles and holds up her scone. “Kiersten said you forgot to grab this.”

Waverly slumps forward and takes it with a small smile. “Thanks.” 

“Sure thing. Though, it’s hard to imagine a world where Waverly Earp would forget her favorite scone. Kiersten thought maybe a certain redhead might have had something to do with it.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

She sighs and takes a bite. “Not you too.”

Feigning innocence, Jeremy raises his hands. “Hey, i’m just repeating what I heard.”

Waverly groans. “Oh, so the whole block knows now?”

“That depends. What’s there to know?”

“Nothing.” Waverly glares at him. “I may have gotten off to a rough start with Nicole Haught, but there’s nothing else.”

“...off to a rough start how?”

Waverly takes another bite before answering. “I was not very nice to her when she came in to introduce herself a few weeks ago.”

“You? Not nice to somebody?” Jeremy looks genuinely shocked. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. I was having a bad week with all the noise from next door and she walked in and acted like we knew each other and I kind of threw her out.”

Jeremy processes this. “Ok. So you had a bad first interaction. Was she mean back or something? Because she seems pretty nice so far, and I can’t see her holding a grudge if you apologize.”

Waverly puts her scone down, having lost her appetite. “I can’t apologize.”

Jeremy looks as shocked as Wynonna had been. “I don’t understand.”

Waverly moves to the vintage watering can display by the front door and begins to rearrange unnecessarily. “She’s been so nice to me and I feel silly bringing it up again. But I feel so awful about it that I can’t stand to be around her. Why does she have to be so nice, anyway? That’s _my_ thing.”

“Waves.” Jeremy stops her mindless movements. “I think you’re overthinking this.”

She jerks her hand out of his, glaring. “Well, maybe you should go back to your own store then.”

Jeremy looks confused and a little hurt. Waverly immediately regrets her words, but before she can say anything else, he turns and heads for the door.

“Enjoy your scone,” he says before exiting, but the words sound a little flat.

Waverly drops her head against the shelving unit and groans. 

* * *

It’s a long day. Waverly almost texts Jeremy a dozen times with an apology, but each time it feels disingenuous and she deletes the text before sending it.

Finally, it’s time to lock up and she rushes across the street to the vintage comic book and records store that Jeremy and Robin co-own. 

Her face must show her distress the moment she enters because Robin smiles at her behind the counter.

“He’s in the back.”

Waverly’s almost reached the “employees only” door when Jeremy comes out and she hurries to him, grabbing his hands.

“I’m _so sorry_. I think I must have hit my head or something because I’ve been saying the stupidest things lately. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m the worst.”

He hugs her tightly. “You’re not the worst. It’s ok. Though, I think maybe you have been hit by something lately. Maybe not in the head though.”

She frowns at him. “Huh?”

“I think what Kiersten said Wynonna said was right: you’ve got it _bad._ ”

“What did Kiersten say Wynonna said about me?”

Jeremy opens his mouth to answer, but the door opens and for the second time that day, Nicole Haught enters a store, rendering Waverly speechless.

She recovers much more quickly this time, dropping to her knees behind a rack of comics and dragging Jeremy with her.

“Wha…” he starts.

“Shh!”

 _“...that you were looking for,”_ Robin is saying.

 _“Thank you so much!”_ Nicole responds. _“Wow, I’ve been looking for this one forever. I can’t believe you had it!”_

_“Jeremy and I have been collecting for ages, haven’t we Jer?”_

There’s an awkward pause where Robin probably looks around for Jeremy and doesn’t see him.

_“That’s odd. I thought he was out here. Maybe they went to the back. Well, anyway, that’ll be $12.34.”_

Jeremy pinches Waverly. “Girl, what the hell?” 

Waverly shushes him again. They listen to Nicole pay, make a little more chit-chat with Robin, and leave.

As soon as she’s out the door, Jeremy stands and glares at Waverly. “Damn, they _were_ right. You’ve got it bad.”

She frowns up at him. “What?”

“Hey, you just missed Nicole,” Robin says, not noticing that they’d been hiding instead of in the back room. "She swung by for the Johnny Cash record you found."

“I know,” Jeremy tells him, heading toward the front of the store. 

Waverly stands but stays where she is, arms crossed over her chest. “What do you mean: I’ve got it bad?” 

Jeremy shrugs, leaning against the counter. “She’s hot, I get it.”

“You do?” Robin asks, slightly confused, slightly teasing.

Jeremy rolls his eyes playfully at his boyfriend. “I mean, aesthetically speaking. You’re the only one I have eyes for.”

Robin smiles, and leans over for a kiss.

“I don’t like Nicole,” Waverly tells no one in particular.

“Sure you don’t,” Robin says. 

“Et tu?” she asks him. He shrugs.

“From what Jeremy said Kiersten said Wynonna said, it’s pretty obvious, Waves.”

She throws her hands in the air walking toward them. “Is nothing about my life private anymore?”

“Aww, honey.” Robin comes around the counter to give her a hug. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure no one else knows.”

“That’s not very comforting. And besides: it’s not true. I _don’t_ like Nicole.”

“Why not?” Jeremy asks.

“Why not? I mean besides the fact that I can’t control who I do or don’t like, she’s totally not my type.”

“How do you know? You’ve been on, like, three dates with women. And one of them was with that one friend of Wynonna’s purely so you’d have a little experience with women before asking the cute girl in your class out last year.”

“First, Rosita wasn’t _just_ a pity date. Also, I’m pretty sure she’s more Doc’s friend than Wynonna’s. Second, just because I’ve not dated many girls doesn’t mean I don’t know what I like.”

“Honey, you’ve been on dates with girls. You’ve never dated a girl.”

“The point still stands.”

“So what’s wrong with Nicole?”

“I…” Waverly sighs. “Nothing. But I don’t like her, ok? She’s too… she’s too much like a dude. I bet she eats red meat every day and only drinks beer and doesn’t know how to cook. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it just means she’s not the one for me.”

Robin and Jeremy share a look. “Well, notoriously, butch women are really good with their hands.” Robin says.

Jeremy jabs him in the side. “What Robin means, Waves, is that you don’t know until you try. You’ve got to ask her, get to know her. If those things are the case, you’re free to not date her. If they aren’t, though, I think you two would get along pretty well.”

“I told you I don’t like her.”

“Doesn’t mean you should avoid her forever.”

“I also told you why I can never speak to her again.”

Jeremy sighs. “Look. You don’t have to apologize to her, ok? If she’s ignoring it, you can too. Just, act like a normal person around her. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hiding out with you whenever she walks into a room.”

“Fine,” Waverly sighs. 

“Fine,” Jeremy responds. 

He gives her another hug on her way out, and if she makes sure Nicole isn’t lurking around before sprinting to her jeep, well, no one’s the wiser.

* * *

The rest of the week is blissfully Nicole free. Waverly’s spent more time than she wants to admit imagining scenarios where Nicole enters a room and she doesn’t flip, until she’s reasonably confident that she’ll succeed the next time it happens. 

Sunday morning, Waverly sits on the rooftop of the store in the greenhouse she’s finally managed to cultivate just the way she wanted. It’s beautiful and peaceful, a little slice of heaven in a busy town, and the perfect spot for yoga and meditation. 

Except for this morning.

_Thunk._

_Thunk._

_Thunk._

The steady thumping of... _something…_ next door has her growing more and more irritated by the second. It sounds like someone’s throwing axes. 

Frustrated, Waverly stands with a scowl. Her meditation is ruined, and yoga is about to be. _Haught Shot_ isn’t supposed to be open on Sundays, at least according to their listed hours, and Waverly has had just about enough of the noise.

Ok, so this is the first time she’s actually been able to _hear_ the activity next door, aside from a few late nights of rowdy guys leaving after their sessions, but still. It’s the principle of the thing. 

Storming down the stairs, she heads out the back to the shared alley/parking lot, intending to use the employee entrance. If Nicole is going to be ok with disturbing the peace, she’s going to be ok with Waverly coming in the back.

When she gets outside, though, she stops short, fully unprepared for the sight of Nicole Haught in a tight, sweaty tank top, chopping wood. 

Waverly’s brain short-circuits and all of her mental preparation goes out the window. Her mouth goes dry and she stands there, gaping like a fish as Nicole swings the axe in a perfect arc, cleanly splitting the log in front of her, throwing the split wood on a growing pile, and setting a new log in place to repeat the action. The muscles in her arms and shoulders flex as she moves, and Waverly wonders what they might feel like under her hands. She has a feeling it would be a slightly different experience than her previous boyfriends. 

Shaking herself, Waverly resumes her mission, waiting until Nicole has completed a particularly elegant chop before saying loudly: “Do you mind?”

Nicole whirls, clearly shocked, but thankfully keeps a firm grip on the axe. “Sorry?”

Gesturing behind her toward the rooftop greenhouse, Waverly glares. “I’m trying to spend a peaceful morning meditating and all I can hear is your infernal chopping.”

“Oh.” Nicole looks apologetic. “Um, sorry? I was just trying to get these ready for the fireplace before it got hot out.”

Waverly frowns, trying to look intimidating. “You’ve already disrupted weeks of my peaceful mornings with all the construction. The least you could let me have is Sundays.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicole says again. There’s a tiny furrow between her brows. “Do you meditate every morning up there? I can find a different time to do this.” She waves a hand at her pile of wood. “Just not today, I have a special group coming in tonight and there’s a lot to get ready.”

She shrugs a little, and Waverly steps back, crossing her arms. “Fine. Just don’t make it a habit.”

She turns to leave, stopping when Nicole says her name, ignoring the way the sound of it makes her heart beat a little faster.

“Waverly? I really am sorry. About the noise. And, um, anything else I did to make you angry.”

Waverly turns back around slowly. She sighs. Nicole really does look sorry, and even Waverly can admit that she’s not as cocky as she’d first assumed. She deflates a little. “I’m not angry. I just...I get used to my routine and it’s hard for me when it changes.”

Nicole nods. “I get that.”

Waverly bites her lip a little and looks away. She still can’t make the apology come out, though she knows she should. 

“Well!” Nicole says, breaking the awkward silence. She swings the axe back up to her shoulder. “I’d better finish up here, but I’ll try to be quick. And, uh, no more chopping wood on Sunday mornings after this.”

She smiles, and Waverly tries to smile back. “Thanks, Nicole.”

Nicole offers a little salute, clicking her tongue. “Anytime, neighbor.”

And _ho boy_ is Waverly in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like if Waverly had gotten out of Purgatory earlier, she might have realized she liked women sooner, but that doesn't mean she's dated many or has much experience with anyone other than men (mostly Champ, unfortunately). I hope this doesn't seem too much out of character, but I think she just doesn't know how to handle someone like Nicole, like early on in the show. Also, it's hard to write a slow burn if everything is great right away, so I hope this makes at least a little sense! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly and Nicole keep running into each other at farmers markets. Waverly's friends and family are starting to get a little suspicious, while Waverly keeps forcing herself into denial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, just a big love letter to farmers markets of all shapes and sizes (well, 2 sizes). I missed them so much this summer, and they might make an appearance again in later chapters, idk. Not beta'd, all mistakes are mine.

“Oh good, Waverly, you’re here. Grab those muffins, will you?”

Shifting her little box of potted flowers to one arm, Waverly lifts several large tubs of muffins out of the back seat of Gus’s car, closing the door with her foot. “Are these rhubarb?”

“Of course, honey. Can’t have a stand at the farmer’s market without my rhubarb muffins.”

Waverly smiles fondly and shakes her head, following Gus from her parking spot to the little tent-covered table amidst a row of similar stands. Every booth down the street is decked out with variations of the same products: produce, baked goods, preserves, flowers, and handmade items. There are a few food trucks, the smell of fried food wafting toward them, mingling together with the smells from the coffee house’s stand in a way that shouldn’t work but somehow does. 

Waverly puts the containers and her flowers on the end of Gus’s table and goes about helping her unload the rest of her things from the crates and cooler, arranging them out on the folding table Gus has set up in her little tent. Waverly loves the intimate feeling of the Tuesday night market in her hometown. Living in the city is good, but there’s just something so magical about coming home for a small town farmers market. Even when she’s at her busiest, Waverly makes it a point to help out as much as possible. 

The entire market only takes up one street for about 4 blocks, booths all up and down either sidewalk. The actual street is blocked off for pedestrians to walk on, and most people park on the residential side streets if it’s too far to walk from their homes. Despite the small size of the town, the farmers market is packed almost every week, drawing a lot of local traffic from neighboring towns and nearby countryside residents too.

The farmer’s market in the city is much bigger of course, and Waverly has a booth for the store reserved every Saturday morning all summer. She’s not always the one out there, though, since the store is open too, but when she is, she is pretty much tied to her table and doesn’t get to wander around unless someone else is helping her out. She loves that experience too, but it’s much different than this one, the one she grew up going to with her aunt and uncle. She does love the feeling of getting up early on a Saturday morning and wandering around the massive city market, getting lost between the ten blocks (plus side streets) filled with everything you’d want at such a place and then some, but there’s something like coming home here. Plus, Gus takes care of the table even when Waverly brings things to sell, and Waverly gets to wander around and chat with old neighbors and friends much more than when she’s manning her own table in the city. 

Here, a few of the local restaurants and bars even have stands with food and drinks available. Shorty’s has several kegs propped up on a sturdy wooden table right out in front of the actual establishment, ready to serve beer and mixed drinks to anyone of age that wants one. 

The backdrop of the setting sun as fairy lights begin to glow along the tents provides an ethereal feeling that always makes Waverly feel warm and fuzzy inside. It’s like something out of a dream every week, and if she could spend all her time selling out of markets like this instead of a storefront, she probably would.

“Wynonna said she had a good time visiting you,” Gus says, setting out the last of the bunches of lettuce and brushing some stray dirt off her hands. Waverly turns back toward her and smiles.

“Yes. It was good to spend time with her, finally.”

Gus tsks, but her face betrays the fondness she has for her older niece. “I do wish she’d settle down a bit.”

“She has her investigation business now, Gus. She’s doing well for herself,” Waverly protests. She knows what Gus means, but she’s proud of Wynonna anyway. It’s been a long road for her to get to where she is, and Waverly can see how much more grown up she is than even a year ago.

“I know.” Gus waves a hand. “But she and that Hank fellow have been on and off for so long, I’m starting to wonder if she’ll ever make up her mind about him.”

Waverly laughs. “Wynonna might never settle down in that way, Gus, and you know it. Just be glad she’s not a groupie anymore, or working at that strip club.”

“Nothing wrong with working there,” Gus says, “except for the fact that she could barely hold even that position down, and ended up drunk more often than not.”

“I know,” Waverly says, putting an arm around her aunt’s shoulders. “But she’s doing a lot better now, even in that department. We didn’t even go out every night.”

Gus smiles at her and pats her arm. “I’m glad to hear it from you, honey. Heaven knows I worry about the two of you more than I’d ever thought I’d worry about anyone other than your uncle.”

Waverly smiles, leaning over to kiss Gus’s cheek. She’d been good to raise them, despite never wanting kids of her own, and she’d done ok at it too. Wynonna had her own set of problems, but Waverly liked to think they’d both turned out ok, really.

“Well you don’t have to worry about me, Gus. The store is doing great and my classes are going well.”

Gus looks her up and down, one eyebrow raised. “But you don’t get out enough. You spend so much time focussed on work and school that you hardly have time to see your friends anymore.”

Waverly frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Jeremy said you hadn’t been to game night in three weeks, and you love game night.”

“You were talking to Jeremy?” It wasn’t unheard of, but not common, and Waverly wondered why he’d not said anything to her before talking to Gus.

“Well, Wynonna said that Jeremy told her that.”

Waverly sighs, leaning on her arms on the table and propping her head in her hands with a little groan. “Wynonna needs to stop gossiping about my life with everyone.”

“She’s worried about you.”

With a pout, Waverly looks back up at her aunt. “She knows I’m busy with school. So does Jeremy. These last few classes are almost over. Then I’ll be done until the fall semester, and I’ll be done completely in December. I’ll have time for friends then.”

“Maybe dating, too,” Gus says, and is spared from Waverly’s response for a moment as a customer approaches, buying several pounds of tomatoes, half a dozen onions, a bunch of carrots, some lettuce, and a few muffins. They deliberate over their decision for a long time, letting Waverly cool down a bit from her aunt’s comment and formulate the proper response--one that doesn’t sound defensive or angry.

When the customer finally pays and leaves, Gus waving them off and thanking them for their business, Waverly plops down on the cooler beside Gus’s chair and sighs. She debates saying anything, but she also wants to know how much Wynonna told her.

“You’ve never really cared about my dating life before this,” she says, a bit more acusatorally than strictly necessary.

Gus shoots her a look, finishing putting away the cash in the box and rearragnig the table a little. “You were always hung up on that Hardy boy. I knew if things got too serious, I’d have to have a talk with you about it, but it never did.”

“Wait, what?” Waverly’s momentarily sidetracked by this new information. “A talk about what?”

“He’s an ok boy, Waverly, but he’s just a boy. He’ll never be good enough for you.” Gus smiles the smile of a parent that indicates they don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for their child. “He didn’t see your full potential, not the way the rest of us do.”

“So now that it’s over, you suddenly have to put your oar in?” Waverly asks a bit more sharply than she probably should. She’s not angry, not really, but Gus might’ve saved her some heartache if she’d been forthcoming about her feelings toward Champ earlier. What’s done is done, though, and Waverly has enough sense to know why Gus let her and Wynonna both figure their own lives out, for the most part.

Gus leans over and pats her knee, pivoting the conversation. “You’re graduating soon, and you’ve got to start thinking about what comes next, eventually. You’ve always been a romantic soul, more than your sister. I know you want a family, and yes, it’s ok if it takes time and you don’t have to rush things, but you should keep a hold on what you already have and keep your eyes open instead of ignoring or pushing away what’s around you.”

Waverly stares at her. She’s not sure if Gus knows about her new nemesis and is making a specific inuation, but something tells her that Wynonna told her aunt more than Waverly might have liked. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Waverly manages to reply, and another customer approaches the table.

For a little while they’re busy, selling the produce from the garden, dozens of muffins, and a few of Waverly’s plants. As usual, though, it’s not too much for Gus to handle on her own. Waverly likes being there no matter what, but eventually Gus sends her off to get something to eat, and she has time to wander around and look at the other booths.

Buying a falafel gyro from one of her favorite food stands (and a regular gyro for Gus), Waverly wanders down the street. Kids are lining up for popsicles at the fire department’s booth, and adults are lining up at Shorty’s--apparently they have a new frozen mixer. A few farmer’s tables are busy selling eggs and homemade bread that Waverly makes a note to come back to. She buys a jar of boysenberry preserves, and some dried sunflower seeds in a cute little burlap bag before wandering back toward Gus’s. 

Finishing her gyro, Waverly throws the wrapper in a nearby trash can so she can buy a little set of homemade candles from one of the booths. She denies taking the offered plastic bag, instead juggling her purchases and the other gyro a little precariously.

She’s nearly back to their table when she gets stopped by Steph’s mom, asking about the potted perennials she has coming in. She takes a few steps backwards as she answers the questions, not really paying attention to where she’s going.

“I’ll have bell flowers and dianthus, but the mums won’t be in until this fall.”

Steph’s mom is moving in the other direction, raising her voice to be heard. “What about those funny purple ones that you had last year? Weren’t those some sort of bell too, or something?”

“Oh, the coral bells. Yes, I’ll have some of those in soon too. Next week, maybe.”

“Wonderful! I’ll send Steph by then.”

“Sounds good!” Waverly balances the gyro on top of her other purchases to wave at the woman, taking a few more steps backward. She turns toward Gus’s table and runs solidly into something--or rather, someone.

“Oh!” she gasps, her carefully balanced purchases fumbling in her arms. A strong hand reaches out to steady her, grabbing the gyro so it doesn’t fall. 

“Woah, there,” says a familiar voice, and Waverly looks up to see Nicole Haught standing there, smiling at her.

She’s pretty sure her heart stops for a minute. Nicole’s hand is still on her arm and Waverly can’t look away from her warm brown eyes. Have they always been this color, like light filtering through leaves in late autumn, warm and mesmerizing?

“Oh,” she says again, her mouth suddenly dry. The world fades away, and there’s only Nicole, her smile turning more and more confused by the second.

“You ok?” Nicole asks, her voice softer than it has a right to be, and it snaps Waverly back to reality. She jolts away, taking a stumbling step backwards and bumping into Gus’s table.

“Fine. I’m fine. What are you doing here?” she turns away from Nicole, willing the blush in her cheeks to fade, and sets her things down behind the table, spending a too-long moment arranging her purchases in her bag.

Nicole hands her the gyro as soon as her hands are free. “Well, even if you sold produce in your store, I’m not quite sure I’m welcome there anymore, and I like to eat local as often as possible. I missed the farmers market in the city last Saturday, and this was the next one available nearby.”

Waverly frowns. She hands the gyro to Gus without looking at her and plants her hands on her hips. “Well. I guess that makes sense. But how’d you end up  _ here _ ?” 

She waves a hand to indicate their stall in particular, raising an eyebrow at Nicole.

Nicole’s laugh is a little uneasy, and she holds up her hands in surrender. “I swear I didn’t know it was yours. I just saw the kale and muffins and had to stop.”

“You like kale?” Waverly’s tone is more incredulous than she’d intended.

Nicole’s eyebrows lift a little, the smile still playing at her lips. “On occasion. I admit, the muffins were a bigger draw.”

“No one can resist Gus’s muffins,” Waverly agrees. “It’s an old family recipe.”

“So I hear.” Nicole’s grin breaks out full force. It’s disarming. Waverly falters, stepping back a little and bumping into the cooler behind her. It’s a miracle she doesn’t fall.

Gus coughs a little, but luckily, another customer steps up and she’s distracted by helping them make their purchase. 

“Well,” Nicole says after a long awkward pause where they stare at each other and Nicole’s smile begins to falter. “I guess I’ll see you around, Waverly.”

Waverly nods, her throat dry, and offers a little half-wave as Nicole gathers her things, thanks Gus, and walks off into the crowd.

Waverly does sit on the cooler then, dropping heavily and takes a shaky breath. Why is she so flustered and warm all of the sudden?

Gus finishes with the other customer and smirks at her. “So, that was the “hot neighbor” I take it?” 

Waverly feels her face heat up even more. “What?”

Gus laughs. “Wynonna said you had a new neighbor at the store. A “tall lesbian redhead”, if I recall correctly, that got under your skin simply by being nice.” 

“She’s not...she doesn’t…” Waverly huffs. “We just have different interests, is all.”

Gus raises and eyebrow. “You’ve always been an honest kid. Don’t stop now.”

“What?”

“Some of the best things in life are the surprises it throws us, about what we want.  _ Who _ we want.”

Waverly turns away, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she manages to say in an even tone, shuffling some more muffins to the front of the tray. 

Gus makes some non-committal noise and turns to their next customer.

And despite her love for farmers markets, it’s a rather long night. 

* * *

It’s Saturday before Waverly sees Nicole again, but the entire week she can’t stop thinking about the gold flecks in her eyes. It’s been a long time since she’s been distracted by something like that, and she tries to ignore what she knows it probably means. She won’t give Wynonna (or Gus) the satisfaction of being right. 

Saturday, she decides to go to the farmer’s market in the city. Levi’s supposed to be manning the booth for her, but she asks him if he wants to work in the shop instead, and he readily agrees. It’s probably partly to do with the high temperatures forecasted, and partly because Fish is working at the comic shop so they can see each other for lunch. Whatever the reason, Waverly doesn’t care. She’s just glad to go to the market. There’s a honey booth that she needs to hit up, the best curry food truck, and wine from a local vineyard that she’s looking forward to grabbing a few bottles of. 

Chrissy isn’t doing anything, and agrees to come sit at the booth with Waverly for a bit too,both for company and so she can wander around a little if she wants. For the first hour or so after setting up, they just sit in the shade of their little tent and help customers, chatting about life and catching up. It’s been a few weeks since they’ve gotten to really talk, and it’s nice. 

“So how’s that new place next door turning out?” Chrissy finally asks, and Waverly turns away to grab her water bottle so Chrissy won’t see the blush that threatens to rise.

“It’s fine. Not as bad as I thought it would be. Pretty minimal noise, at least.”

Chrissy nods. “Do you know who does their marketing? I have a few openings for new clients, and it would be a good way for me to stretch myself, do something completely different from my normal clientele.”

“No idea,” Waverly says. For the life of her, she can’t remember what any of the fliers looked like, just that they were simple but not completely amature. 

“Have you met the owner yet?”

“Yeah, uh, Wynonna and I stopped by when she came to visit. Did a few rounds of throwing. She’s, uh, she’s nice, I guess.”

If Chrissy notices Waverly stumbling over her words, she doesn’t say anything. “She, huh? That’s cool. We need more women business owners around here.”

“Mmhmm.” 

“I should stop in some time,” Chrissy says absently. “See if she could use me.”

For a brief second, a white-hot flash of something akin to jealousy flares up in Waverly’s gut, before she realizes that Chrissy is talking about her marketing business and nothing else. Flushing, she takes a sip of water and tries to will a customer their way. 

“Just don’t mention that you’re friends with me and you’ll be fine,” she mumbles.

Chrissy lets out a laugh, clearly not expecting the statement. “What? Why? Usually all I have to do is mention that I’ve known you forever and people bend over backwards to give me what I want.”

Waverly raises a brow. “Really?”

“Ok, not quite, but you’re the nicest person there is, and when people find out we’re friends, they’re much more likely to give me a chance.”

“Nicole will probably kick you out. We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot. A few times, actually.”

Chrissy gapes at her. “Really,” she deadpans. “Waverly Earp not getting along with someone? The world must be ending.”

Waverly throws her a glare. “Stop.”

A customer approaches, and for a few minutes Waverly is busy telling them about the different things she has available, and giving them a card when they only buy a few small packs of seeds. They seem interested but undecided, and she encourages them to come into the store later that week. 

“We’ve got all this and more there, or someone else will be back here next Saturday.”

The woman thanks her and leaves and Waverly sits back down on her chair. 

“So I’m thinking this Nicole woman must be really awful if you don’t get along with her,” Chrissy says, cutting right back to their conversation, and Waverly groans a little, hoping they’d be past it.

“She’s fine. Everyone else will probably tell you she’s nice. We just...we’re just too different, I think. Or something. Something about her rubs me the wrong way, I guess. That’s all.”

Chrissy’s looking at her knowingly and mutters something under her breath that sound suspiciously like “ _ or rubs you the right way, _ ” that Waverly chooses to ignore. 

She helps a few more customers and is in front of their booth rearranging their display when someone nearby lets out a loud laugh, and Waverly looks up to see a pair coming toward them. Her heart stops, before starting back up double time.

_ Of course  _ she’d be here. 

Nicole doesn’t see her yet and Waverly briefly considers running for the hills, maybe without even saying anything to Chrissy. 

_ No, _ she thinks.  _ No, she doesn’t get to ruin this farmers market too. _

“Oh! Hey, Waverly!” says that now-familiar voice, and Waverly turns, hands on her hips, to see Nicole standing there, smile as big as ever, with Lonnie a few steps behind her. 

“Hey,” she says, not bothering to fake enthusiasm. 

“I guess it makes sense, seeing you here,” Nicole says, as if at a bit of a loss for words herself. She’s oblivious to or ignoring Waverly’s cool reception, and it only makes Waverly tenser. “You really like farmer’s markets, huh?”

“They’re good for business.”

Nicole hesitates. “Right.”

They stand there awkwardly for a moment before Chrissy leans over the table, extending a hand. “Hi, I’m Chrissy.”

Nicole turns toward her, shifting what she’s holding to one hand so she can shake Chrissy’s. “Nicole.”

Her smile is back, friendly and inviting, and Waverly shifts away a bit.

Lonnie nudges Nicole and points down the line. “I’ll be over that way,” he tells her and saunters off when she nods. 

“Oh, are these for your business?” Chrissy asks, reaching for what Nicole is holding. Waverly finally looks down, realizing that it’s a small stack of 4x5 cardstock flyers. Nicole hands one over to Chrissy, who examines it. “Nice. It’s a good place to work the crowd, but you might have even better luck at the art festival in two weeks. How’s business so far?”

She and Nicole get into a discussion that Waverly isn’t really paying attention to. Instead, she finds herself staring at Nicole’s arms. She’s wearing a tank top due to the hot weather, the ever-present flannel tied around her waist, and maybe it’s the sunlight but her biceps seem even bigger and more defined than last time. Waverly swallows.

“ _ Right, _ Waves?” Chrissy says, and from her tone it’s clear it’s not the first time she said it. Waverly flushes, hoping it’s not too obvious. 

“Uh, yeah. Right.” She has no clue what they’re talking about as she turns back to Chrissy and nods, willing it to not be anything incriminating. 

“I’ll be sure to check you out, then,” Nicole says, clearly talking to Chrissy, and that white-hot jealousy is back even though there’s no way the comment could be suggestive. 

Waverly notices the new card in Nicole’s hand, one of Chrissy’s and mentally berates herself for such an uncalled for reaction.

“I have a little marketing experience of my own, but it might be nice to have a professional help out a little,” Nicole is saying.

“Yeah, call me anytime.” 

Waverly swallows hard and  _ dammit why does everything sound suggestive even when it’s clearly not? _ She fights a sigh and turns to Nicole, offering a polite smile.

“It’s nice to see you again, Nicole,”

She expects a nod and curt smile, perhaps a polite return remark, and for Nicole to walk away in that self-assured way of hers. She doesn’t expect Nicole to take an audible breath, her smile slow and soft and something other than strictly polite, her eyes warm. 

She  _ certainly _ doesn’t expect Nicole to reach her free hand out and touch Waverly’s shoulder lightly but firmly as she says, softly: “You too, Waverly.”

Her eyes are intense, those gold flecks drawing Waverly in as they’re caught together in a moment, suspended. Waverly can feel her heartbeat in her throat, and her skin burns where Nicole is touching it.

The moment lasts a lifetime and is simultaneously done as soon as it starts. Nicole pulls back, offers one last smile at Chrissy, and walks away.

Chrissy starts laughing almost as soon as she’s out of earshot, jolting Waverly back to reality. “Damn, girl, she’s  _ into _ you.”

Waverly glares, moving around the table to sit in her chair. “No she’s not. You can’t know that. You-you don’t even know if she’s gay.” Waverly realizes  _ she _ knows that, or at least that Nicole is into women, though there’s no way Chrissy possibly could. The thought makes her stomach swoop, but she doesn’t want to think about why.

Chrissy laughs. “She totally is. That woman is a walking pride parade, waving a rainbow flag with your face on it.”

“You’re imagining things,” Waverly protests. “And don’t claim gaydar. Only gay people can have a gaydar.”

“I don’t have to have a gaydar to recognize attraction, honey.” 

“And I’m telling you, you’re imagining things.”

“You might want to tell your face that,” Chrissy smirks.

Waverly frowns. 

“Either way, she’s nice and you should be ashamed that you, of all people, can’t get along with her. Though, I think I know why you might have a “problem” with her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Chrissy gives her a look. When Waverly doesn’t bite, she sighs. “You really are oblivious, aren’t you? I’m surprised you managed to come out to yourself with this level of obliviousness.”

“Chrissy, I’ve been out for almost three years.”

“Forget about it,” Chrissy sighs, overdramatic. “You’re hopeless.”

Waverly knows what she’s hinting at, but she’d rather they all think she’s oblivious to her own attraction than admit defeat. The fact of the matter still stands: Nicole is too cocky, and physical attraction aside, not the type of person Waverly is interested in. 

At least, that’s what she’s going to keep telling herself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there's not a ton of interaction between Wayhaught this chapter either. This is just the way the story wants to be told, idk. Hopefully there will be more next chapter! Hope you enjoyed anyway!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly starts to get drawn in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a polar vortex here in the good old midwest US of A, so have some nice warm pride month shenanigans. 
> 
> (also I realize it's still kinda chilly sometimes at the beginning of June in northern USA and Canada, but just pretend there's a heat wave or something, idk.)

Above all else, Nicole Haught baffles Waverly.

They’ve seen each other three times since Saturday: once at the cafe, once at the sandwich shop, and once outside by where Waverly parks her jeep. Each time has been brief, and Nicole has been cordial but not overly friendly, pleasant but nowhere near the level of familiarity that she displayed at the farmers market.

Waverly tells herself she doesn’t care. She  _ doesn’t. _ It’s good this way. Better. They can be acquaintances, people that work next to each other and are civil to one another, but they don’t have to be friends. 

But now, on the side of the road, with no one else in sight for miles, Nicole’s smile is disarming. 

“Need a hand?” she asks, and Waverly looks up, startled, and almost falls over. She’d heard the car approaching and only glanced at it, not long enough to see the driver. She feels something like hot embarrassment curl into her belly as she stands, lifting her chin a little.

“I thought you were the sheriff,” she mumbles, a little embarrassed. Nicole’s SUV does kind of look like a sheriff car, so Waverly hopes she can be forgiven for not realizing it was the one that parks in the alley near her own jeep most days. 

“I get that a lot,” Nicole teases, her eyes crinkling as she smiles and squints in the bright sun. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to detain you for having a flat. Hell of a place, though.”

Waverly looks down at the jeep again, where the flat tire mocks her and sighs. “Yeah, I was just about to call a tow truck.”

“You have a spare,” Nicole points out. “I can change it for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to…” Waverly starts, but Nicole is already heading toward the back of the jeep. 

“Not a problem, really. Besides, I can’t in good conscience leave a pretty girl like you on the side of the road waiting for a tow when I know how to fix you up myself.”

She winks before turning away to grab the tire, and Waverly is pretty certain she’s not just talking about flats.

“I used to know how to change a tire, too,” she admits as Nicole props the spare against the jeep and gets to work. “It’s just been a while.”

“Seriously, Waves, don’t worry about it.” 

Nicole is getting the car jacked up now, her bare shoulders flexing and glistening in the sun and Waverly almost misses the nickname. The nickname that shouldn’t sound so... _ right _ coming from her, but does. She swallows. 

“Well, um, thanks.” her voice is higher than normal, and she hopes Nicole is too busy to notice. 

Nicole, for her part, keeps up a steady conversation the entire time, telling Waverly exactly what she’s doing as she does it. (Well, it’s more of a monologue, Waverly supposes, since she herself hardly says a word.) She glances at Waverly every now and then, trying to engage her in the task.

“There,” Nicole says finally, standing and brushing off her hands. “Good as new. And next time, you’ll know how to do it.”

She turns with a grin and Waverly flushes slightly. “Um,” she says, realizing that she’s been staring at Nicole’s hands as they move but barely listening to a word she’s said.

“Or you could just call me,” Nicole teases, swiping at her cheek and leaving a smudge of grease.

“Yeah,” Waverly says dumbly, staring at it. “That.”

_ Get it together, _ she chides herself. _ You won awards for essay writing and public speaking in high school. _

“Well,” Nicole says after a long pause, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jean shorts. “Think you can make it home now? You will want to go get a new tire as soon as possible.”

“I know. I will,” Waverly says, mentally shaking herself again. “Thanks again, Nicole. I, uh, I owe you one.”

Nicole waves a hand, and for the first time all day she looks a little bashful. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s my good deed for the day. See you later?”

She turns to go, and Waverly’s heart lurches. “Wait, Nicole?”

Nicole stops and turns back and Waverly realizes she doesn’t have a plan for this. She doesn’t have anything to say. Seeing the grease smudged on Nicole’s face, she steps forward on impulse.

“You’ve, uh, you’ve got…” she gestures at it. Nicole stands stock-still as she approaches, making no move to get the mark herself. Without thinking, Waverly reaches up and presses her own thumb to the spot. Nicole’s skin is damp from the heat, and Waverly’s thumb slides over the skin of her cheekbone easily, taking the grease with it. Underneath is a tiny little mole that she hadn’t noticed earlier, and she spends a moment too long looking at it. 

“Thanks,” Nicole says, her voice quiet and rough. Waverly looks up to meet her eyes and realizes that they’re standing mere inches apart, closer than they ever have been face-to-face. Her mouth goes dry. 

The heat between them feels electric. Waverly swears Nicole’s eyes flick downward, but then she’s stepping back, letting out a little nervous laugh, and running a hand through her hair. 

“You really should head to an auto shop as soon as possible. See you around, Waverly.”

She’s in her car and starting it up before Waverly has a chance to move, and Waverly realizes she didn’t even ask what Nicole was doing on the road that leads almost nowhere except Purgatory. 

* * *

With her classes done for the semester, Waverly finally has time to work on her pride displays. It’s already almost the second week of June by the time she gets them fully set up the way she wants: rows of flowers in different configurations, rainbow bouquets, and various other colorful decorations. She has a special display of violets, pansies, and lavender, and a corner full of little flags of all types and sizes for front lawns and porches and gardens and windows. She hangs rainbow garlands made of dried flowers and a progress pride flag in the window, and has little roll of stickers to hand out.

Jeremy complains that it looks like a unicorn threw up. Robin loves it. Wynonna pretends to hate it when Waverly facetimes her, but Waverly can tell she’s secretly proud. Gus brings in a bunch of pins specially made for the store from one of her friends with an etsy shop, and they have the cutest little display by the register. 

The other stores on the street are also displaying pride in various ways, mostly flags in the windows or special things for sale, but  _ Haught Shot _ has taken it one step further.

Jeremy’s the one that tells her. “Apparently they’re doing a theme every night the whole week leading up to the parade. 80’s night, western night, that sort of thing.”

“I heard they were booked out for most of them already,” Robin says, rearranging the records display up front.  _ “The best queer artists on vinyl!” _ the sign reads. 

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Waverly says, snagging one of Jeremy’s fries from her perch on the counter. He swats at her half-heartedly. 

“Bet it’s kinda fun though,” Robin says. “That sort of thing always brings in a lot of customers, too.”

“Mmm,” Waverly hums, taking a sip of her lavender latte from Kiersten’s. She imagines Nicole with curly 80’s hair in neon leg warmers. She can’t decide if it would look ridiculous or hot. 

“Waves?” Jeremy says, waving a hand in front of her face.

She grimaces. “Sorry. What?”

“What day is Wynonna getting here?”

“Thursday. I think Rosita is coming too, but I’m not sure about Doc. They might be off-again.” 

Jeremy nods, balling up the wrapper from his veggie burger and tossing it toward the trash, fist-pumping when he makes it in. “Cool. We have plans?”

“Yeah, some DJ friend of Rosita’s is at one of the clubs that night, I think. Then nothing concrete until the parade on Saturday, just whatever events we want to go to.”

“Sounds good.”

The bell over the door chimes and a kid with purple hair walks in, looking around nervously before sidling on past them, gaze lingering on the Pride display as they head toward the back. 

“Well, guess that means it’s time to get back, let Gus take a lunch break,” Waverly tells the boys, hopping off the counter. “See you later.”

* * *

She should have taken a closer look at the week’s schedule for  _ Haught Shot _ , Waverly thinks desperately, and maybe she would have been prepared. 

Well, maybe not prepared, but forewarned. Forewarned, that is, for the sight of Nicole Haught in a stetson.

She’s a country girl. She has a thing for cowboy hats. Sue her. 

To top it off, though, is the uniform: a sheriff’s outfit to be exact. Blue shirt and tie, navy pants, the whole shebang. 

Nicole in a flannel she can almost handle. Nicole in a sheriff’s uniform, complete with a pair of handcuffs, a badge, and a (clearly plastic) gun at her hip? Not so much.

“Hey, Waverly!” Nicole calls, shutting the door of her car and waving. 

Waverly lifts a hand to wave back, still staring. “Hey, Nicole. What’s the theme today?”

She’s impressed she even makes the question coherent, and that her voice is steady. Nicole grins, taking a step toward her.

“Country Western. Should thank you, though, for this.” She waves a hand at herself.

Waverly frowns. “What do you mean?” she all but squeaks.

“When your car broke down? You said you thought I was the sheriff at first. I know it’s not what you meant, but it gave me the idea for how to participate while still making it clear that I’m the owner of the place. You know, set me apart from all the cowboys that are going to show up.”

“Yeah,” Waverly breathes. “It’s, uh, well done.”

“Thanks. Hey, you should stop by! If you want. Can’t guarantee you’ll get to throw, we’re pretty booked, but wear those cowboy boots of yours and bring a friend. We’re having live music at 8.” 

“O-ok,” Waverly stutters, her mind stuck on the fact that Nicole has paid enough attention to her in the last month to know that she owns and sometimes wears cowboy boots. She stares after Nicole for a long time before forcing herself inside to open the store.

It’s a very long day.

* * *

“You  _ want _ to go there? Are you feeling well, Waves?”

Wynonna presses a hand to her forehead. Waverly shrugs it off. “They’re having live music at 8, and the other thing doesn’t start until 10. Figured it would give us a low-key way to start off the night before the club. We can stop in for like an hour and head on our way”

“I still think you’re an imposter and have my real sister stashed somewhere,” Wynonna says skeptically. “But I’m not going to turn down a chance to get drinks and watch some hot cowboy wannabes throw axes, even if most of them are gay.”

“Good. Wear your leather jacket with the tassels: it’s country western night and we should look like we at least tried.”

“Do I never not wear my leather jacket?” is Wynonna’s only comment.

They arrive around 8:30 and the place is packed. There’s a local queer country rock band playing covers of the indigo girls, dixie chicks, and brandie carlile, as well as some original songs, and the little space for music and lounging is full of people. True to Wynonna’s prediction, there are a lot of cowboy wannabes at the throwing lanes, but there are even more cowgirl wannabes, some in flannel shirts that they probably wear every day, others in what could barely pass for cheap halloween costumes.

“Beer?” Wynonna asks, and heads for the bar, Rosita and Waverly in her wake. 

They’re almost there when they see Nicole, chatting with someone off to the side as she surveys the room. She’s taken off the tie and undone the top button of her uniform, but is still wearing the hat and belt. Rosita lets out a low whistle for only Waverly to hear. 

“Think if I took my top off she’d lock me up?” She asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Waverly frowns, her stomach clenching. “I think you’ve been spending a little too much time with Wynonna lately.”

Rosita laughs and shoves at her lightly. “I can see why you wanted to come.”

“That’s not..I didn’t…” Waverly splutters, but Rosita is already moving forward to grab a drink from Wynonna, pointing out the redheaded woman. Before Waverly can do anything,Wynonna strides toward Nicole.

“Well, howdy-do there, sheriff,” Wynonna says, drawing out the last word. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Nicole raises an eyebrow, smirking. “I do own the place, after all. Good to see you Wynonna.”

Wynonna tips an imaginary hat. Nicole turns to greet the others, her smile brightening a little. “Hey, Waverly. You came.”

“Yeah, uh, just for a bit.”

“You look good.” Nicole gives her the once over, and Waverly flushes. She’s wearing her Shorty’s t-shirt tied back into a crop-top, short-shorts, and cowgirl boots. She doesn't feel like she put in enough effort, but Nicole doesn’t seem to mind. Her gaze lingers a beat too long before she notices Rosita, turning and sticking out her hand.

“I don’t think we’ve met. Nicole Haught, owner of this fine establishment.”

She affects a southern accent for the last few words, making Rosita laugh.

“Rosita Bustillos. Unfortunate friend of these two hooligans. Well, that hooligan; having Waverly as a friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Seems to be a popular consensus,” Nicole says, winking at Waverly. “Though I regret to say I can’t quite see why yet.”

She’s flirting, Waverly realizes, even as Rosita responds with surprise and Nicole’s attention is pulled back to her instead. 

Nicole is  _ flirting _ with Waverly. The realization makes her ears burn. 

The song ends and the crowd applauds, breaking the moment. Nicole takes half a step back, waving a hand toward the bar. “I’ve got to get back to work. Enjoy yourselves.”

She smiles at Rosita and gives an exaggerated tip of her hat to Wynonna who swats playfully at her. Her last glance, though, is for Waverly, a soft smile on her lips as they lock eyes for a moment too long. 

The three stay for about an hour, enjoying the music, but Nicole doesn’t make her way back to them. Waverly glances over a few times and even makes eye contact once or twice, but can’t find it in herself to go and strike up a conversation, even when the bar isn’t busy. Wynonna does briefly, but Waverly doesn’t notice until her sister is headed back toward them, another round of drinks in hand. 

Nicole is busy when they leave and Waverly doesn’t even catch her eye. She resolves not to care as they head toward the club, switching out shirts and shoes in the car for more club-appropriate attire. Wynonna drives, since this is one of the few weekends a year she’s the responsible one, letting Waverly have the fun. 

The club is loud and packed and full of people. Rosita buys them shots (including Wynonna since they’ll be here a while) and they dance. Jeremy and Robin eventually show up too, and Waverly is pretty sure she sees Kiersten at the bar with a brunette woman she doesn’t know. The music is good and Waverly is having more fun than she’s had in a long time. She has a few too many drinks probably, but she doesn’t care. She knows Wynonna is there, true to her word, watching out for her.

Waverly dances with Jeremy and Robin, with Wynonna, and even with Rosita for a bit before moving to dance with people outside their little group. By the time they’ve been there a few hours, Waverly has danced with a handful of women and men she doesn’t know. The pulse of the music thrums through her, and Waverly throws her arms up as she moves to the beat. It’s been a long time since she’s been to a club like this, and the alcohol in her system is making it easy to let go. 

Shortly after midnight, Rosita buys them another round that Wynonna declines, and Waverly moves back into a group of people she doesn’t really know but has been dancing with for a while now, taking occasional shots, and generally just having a good time. So when a warm hand lands on her waist she doesn’t flinch, moving her hips to the beat without looking up. The hand doesn’t move, though, and Waverly turns toward its owner to see if it’s Wynonna or Rosita, telling her they want to go. 

She should start expecting to see Nicole in places like this, she supposes. And maybe it wouldn’t have rendered her so speechless if Nicole hadn’t changed her clothes, but she has. Her hair is down now, falling in loose waves around her face after being french braided all evening. She’s switched the cop outfit for one more suited for a club: a tight black tank top with a little cut out on the chest just low enough to be tempting, a silver necklace, and black jeans. She’s done a little smokey eyeshadow, which is more makeup than Waverly’s ever seen her in, and they’re standing even closer than they were when Waverly wiped the grease off her face. Waverly has to crane her neck up to see her properly as they’re jostled closer by the dancing crowd.

“Hi,” Nicole says, too softly to hear over the pulsing music, but Waverly watches her lips move, her eyes flicking downward just as Nicole speaks. 

Waverly wants to ask what she’s doing here, how she found her, if she’s following them, but they’re both jostled on the shoulder by a drunk guy in mesh top and feather boa with colored eyeliner. 

“It’s a dance floor, not a graveyard!” he shouts at them, a little of his brightly colored drink sloshing a bit. 

He bumps his hip into Nicole’s, shimming in between them, grabbing Waverly’s hand and spinning her out and away. When she spins back, she nearly falls, saved only by Nicole’s strong hands on her waist again. The drunk guy, not really paying attention to them at all, cheers and moves on, and Waverly is left alone with Nicole’s hands flexing on her sides. 

Feeling a burst of bravery, Waverly winds her arms around Nicole’s neck. It’s not really the kind of music for this type of dancing, but Waverly begins to sway to the beat. This electric thing between them pulses and sparkes as Nicole begins to loosen up a little, pulling Waverly’s body closer until they’re almost touching. Waverly’s hands wind up into Nicole’s hair at the back of her neck and she feels the last shot she took hitting her, making her braver. She closes her eyes and lifts her hands, swaying to the beat.

Nicole responds, leaning her head closer, her own hands skimming over Waverly’s body as they move together. Waverly moves one hand back down her own body, grasping Nicole’s, and Nicole lifts it up and twirls her. They’re both laughing as she spins, and Waverly feels herself loosening up even more. Maybe she  _ can _ be friends with Nicole, she starts to think. That wouldn’t be so bad. 

Nicole spins her back and she stumbles a tiny bit, almost crashing into her again, the laughter dying on both their lips as they’re suddenly pressed flush, their faces so close that Waverly can feel Nicole’s warm breath ghosting across her lips. Her eyes are dilated and her hand loosens in Waverly’s grip, falling away. She glances down and Waverly stops breathing, sure that Nicole will lean in. Sure that if she doesn’t move away, Nicole will kiss her.

Someone slams hard into Waverly’s shoulder, jostling them apart. It doesn’t hurt, really, but it breaks the moment. Nicole takes a full step back, almost backing into someone else. She opens her mouth, but if she says something, Waverly definitely can’t hear it. She can’t even hear the club music anymore because the blood is pounding so hard in her ears. She doesn’t get a chance to reach out and pull Nicole back, to step forward and resume dancing, because Nicole’s face fills with wide panic just long enough for Waverly to register before Nicole is spinning away and being swallowed by the crowd.

Waverly stands, stunned, jostled by the dancers around her for far too long to hope to follow her. She can still feel Nicole’s hands on her waist, moving up and down with the music, and it sends a shudder through her. She starts toward where Nicole disappeared, but it’s no use: she’s gone. 

The announcer on stage is shouting something, and the crowd is cheering and Waverly moves about blindly until Wynonna finds her, shouting something about Rosita’s friend wanting to head out, asking if she wants to go too. 

Nodding, she follows Wynonna in a daze. It’s much quieter outside the club, but she doesn’t register Rosita’s friends name, barely even looking at the woman as she glances around to see if Nicole is, somehow, still around. 

“We’re gonna go get tacos. Hey, you ok?” Wynonna says, and Waverly turns back to her sister, nodding.

“Probably shouldn’t’ve had that last shot,” she mumbles. Wynonna throws an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze.

“Lets go get some food in you, baby girl,” she says, and leads her to the car.

Drunk and still a little shaken by the interaction with Nicole, Waverly lets herself be taken away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome and also SORRY NOT SORRY.


End file.
